One Little, Two Little, Three Little Demons
by Lia76
Summary: It's okay, Dean," John reassured him. "Sammy will be fine. We'll figure it out. Why don't you go back to bed?" Dean shook his head yes, but remained planted where he stood next to John's bed, holding his little brother's limp hand in his. wee!chester fic
1. The Dark Haired One

**One Little, Two Little, Three Little Demons**

**Chapter One: The Dark Haired One**

"It's okay, Dean," John reassured his oldest son. "Sammy will be fine. We'll figure it out. Why don't you go back to bed?"

Dean shook his head yes, but remained planted where he stood next to John's bed, holding his little brother's limp hand in his. John sighed, but did not press the issue further. Dean was terrified. Could he blame him? So was he, after all. John continued to stroke his youngest son's back, holding him close to his body. Sammy made no sounds or movements; the only indications that he was conscious were his racing heartbeat and wide staring eyes. God, what did I miss? John thought silently. WHAT DID I MISS?

"You want to sleep with us?" John asked Dean a moment later.

Dean nodded his head yes again and climbed into bed next to Sammy, still tightly holding his little brother's hand.

snsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsnsn

_**Two months ago…**_

"But I _don't_ wanna move again!" Seven year-old Sam protested as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"You'll like this new town, Sammy. Lots of room to run around," John said optimistically as he stuffed his clothes into his duffle bag.

"I don't care! It's hard to make new friends!" Sam said with a frown as he stamped his foot.

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a whiny bitch it would be easier!" Eleven year-old Dean shot back.

"Dean, watch your mouth and leave your brother alone," John reprimanded his oldest son. When John saw Sam stick his tongue out at Dean in response, he did his best to hide a smile.

"Well he_ is_," Dean mumbled.

"Cut it out. Both of you," John said. "And hurry up and pack your stuff. If they charge us extra for being here past check out time, it's coming out of _both_ of your pockets."

John suppressed another smile when his sons predictably rushed to grab their things out of the drawers and off of the floor.

"Can I sit in the front?" Sam asked hopefully as John threw the last of their bags into the trunk of the Impala.

"No," Dean answered simply as he hopped into the front seat and shut the door.

"But he always gets to sit in the front!" Sam protested to their father.

"Because _I'm_ the oldest," Dean answered after he stuck his head out of the window.

"You can sit in the front next time, Sammy, okay? We have got to get going," John said.

Sam didn't say anything else, but Dean recognized his brother's classic pouting expression easily enough. He smiled victoriously when Sam climbed into the backseat a moment later.

After John climbed into the driver's seat, he took one last look at the run down building as he drove them away from their latest home. A home that was a crappy motel room, sure, but it had been home to them for a while nonetheless. John felt sorry for his boys about that, but he had no choice. Hunting was a job that was difficult on all of them in more ways than one, but that was the cards they had been dealt when something unknown murdered his wife and the boys' mother on Sam's six month birthday. Until he could finally find out what _it_ was and how to kill it, he would continue to kill anything evil he found find along the way. Even if it didn't bring him any closer to killing it and avenging Mary's death, it could save some other family from the same other horrible fate.

John glanced over at Dean who was fiddling with the radio. Dean seemed to love the hunting lifestyle, always thirsty for knowledge about the supernatural and anxious to move onto the next town. But not Sam. John next glanced in the mirror at his youngest son who was staring out the window, doing his best to hide the fact that he was crying. Sam was so sensitive, like his mother was, and it killed John that he could never tell him that _everything _was going to be okay. Because he didn't know that. So he did the next best thing that he could think of at that moment.

"Hey, Sammy?" John asked.

John waited for Sam to compose himself before continuing to speak, not wanting to needlessly embarrass him in front of Dean.

"You pick where we eat lunch, okay?" John asked. "Just tell me when you see where you want us to stop."

Sam smiled, and John couldn't help but smile in return. Sam's smile could light up a room. Another attribute he got from his mother.

"All right!" Sammy said as he quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve.

"Hey!" Dean said, his turn to protest now. "He picked last time. It's my turn!"

"I don't think so," John responded, still smiling.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"Because _I'm_ the father," John answered simply.

Dean frowned but did not protest further, always mindful of his father's wishes.

"Fine. I'm not hungry anyway," Dean said.

Everyone laughed a moment later when Dean's stomach grumbled, and all arguments were forgotten. Forty-five minutes later, everyone was settled in a booth at McDonald's. Dean was secretly glad that Sammy had chosen this fast food place for lunch, even though he would never give him the satisfaction of saying it. More food for the money was _always_ his favorite.

"So, dad, what are we hunting next?" Dean inquired excitedly, not bothering to finish his mouthful of food first.

"Dean. Swallow and _then_ talk," John answered.

Dean swallowed quickly and then opened his mouth to show it was empty.

"Eww!" Sam said as he covered his eyes.

John didn't miss the fact that Sammy was smiling though. Dean's comedic behavior was a constant source of enjoyment for them, a welcome diversion from their often grueling daily routine of hunting.

"Don't know yet. But there have been a number of demonic omens popping up in the town where we're headed. Can you give me an example of a demonic omen, Sammy?"

Dean squirmed in his seat, anxious to give his father the answer. Now _this_ kind of test he would always pass with flying colors.

Sammy stuck his tongue out a bit as he thought about his response.

"Umm," Sam began.

"Lighting storms!" Dean blurted out.

"Dean, I asked your brother," John said gently. "Sam?"

"He said what…what I was going to say," Sam answered quietly.

"I know more ways, dad!" Dean jumped in quickly. "Mutilated animals. Dead plants-."

"Okay, okay. Good job, Dean," John said with a smile before turning to his youngest. "It's okay. Sam," John said as he ruffled his hair. "You'll get another turn. Now, Dean, what is one of the fastest way to determine if someone is possessed by a demon?"

"Throw holy water on 'em!" Dean answered triumphantly.

"You got it," John answered as he held out some change. "Now go buy yourself an ice cream cone."

"_Yes!" _Dean cheered as he snatched the money out of his father's hand and raced from the table to the counter.

"One more chance, Sam," John said as he turned back to the smaller boy. "How do you kill a werewolf?"

"Silver bullet!" Sam answered with a big smile.

"Great!" John said as he pulled some more change out of his pocket. Sam smiled and took the money from his hand. After counting the coins, he looked at his father in confusion.

"But you didn't give me enough money to get you a cone too."

* * *

"Here we are boys," John said wearily after he unlocked the motel room door and walked inside.

"Ugh," Dean commented. "Better get your vacuum cleaner out, Samantha. This place is a _mess_!"

"Be quiet, Dean," Sam responded, unperturbed by his brother's usual good natured teasing comments as he walked over and sat down on one of the queen beds.

"You boys get ready for bed right away," John said. "It's very late. And you boys have school tomorrow."

"But there's a good horror movie on t.v. Could be good research," Dean said.

"Nice try. Bed. Now," John ordered. "Sammy, why don't you-,"

John didn't need to finish his sentence, his youngest son already asleep on the bed.

* * *

Sam walked with Dean and his father to the principal's office, eyeing the other children as they did him as they passed by. Sam already felt like they didn't like him, as if they could already sense that he was very different from them. When he looked down at his feet, he felt Dean's hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, Sammy. Anyone bothers you, you tell me and I'll kick some ass," Dean whispered so his father couldn't hear.

Sam smiled, and a bit of the anxiety washed away. Not because he was planning on telling Dean to fight anyone for him, but because Dean really was a good brother when it mattered.

Unbeknownst to the Winchester clan, three boys noticed Sammy because he was _exactly_ the kind of different they had counted on.

"There. The dark haired one," the one blonde haired boy said to the other two brown haired boys.

"He doesn't look like much, Jason," the taller of the other two commented as they watched them disappear into the principal's office.

"Well, that's not for you to decide, now is it, Jonathan!" Jason said as he punched him hard in the arm.

"Ow!" Jonathan protested.

"He IS one of the chosen ones. Therefore he IS the one that we want. Got it?" Jason reiterated.

"Okay, okay!" Jonathan conceded as he rubbed his throbbing arm.

"The father was so gullible to bring them here. Little does he know that we left the signs on _purpose_ to _draw_ them here," the shorter of the brown haired boys commented with a sly smile.

"Exactly, Rob. Humans. _So_ predictable," Jason said, smiling too. "You all know what to do?"

The other two nodded their heads in understanding. When the bell rang a moment later, they went their separate ways to class.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing!**


	2. Not Yet

**Chapter 2: Not Yet **

Sam stood in the boys' bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He wished his hair was different _and_ his clothes too. He didn't look like any of the other kids in this school. No wonder they looked at him like he was a weirdo. Unlike Dean who loved attention in _any_ form he could get it, Sam hated to stand out. Five minutes. He had five minutes until the bell rang and he had to find his way to his first class of the day. As he turned for the door, he bumped into a boy, spilling his books to the floor.

"Sorry!" Sam apologized quickly as he helped the boy pick up his books.

"No harm done. Hey, I haven't seen you before. You new here?" the boy asked.

"Yes. First day. My name's Sam," Sam answered, as he held out his hand, in a rare moment of boldness.

"Nice to meet you," the boy said with a welcoming smile on his face as he shook Sam's hand. "My name's Jonathan."

"Hey, Sammy boy!" Dean yelled across the cafeteria as he waved when he noticed his little brother walk in.

Although Sam was happy to see his big brother, he cringed as a third of the kids in the cafeteria turned around to look at him. So much for not standing out. He walked toward Dean who had a big smile on his face. Probably had a lot to do with the pretty red headed girl sitting next to him. Sam couldn't help but smile too. Classic Dean.

"Hey kid," Dean said to Sam. "Saved you a seat."

"_Don't_ call me kid," Sam replied as he sat down.

"My little brother, Sammy. Isn't he cute?" Dean said as he leaned over the table and ruffled Sam's hair.

"Quit it, Dean!" Sam said, annoyed, as he smoothed his hair back into place. He hated how Dean behaved when he was showing off for a girl, especially when it meant embarrassing him in the process.

"This is uh…" Dean began as he turned to the girl.

"Kylie," she said, not seeming to care that Dean had already forgotten her name. A moment later she put her hand on Dean's. Yuck, Sam thought as he made a face.

"You want the rest of my lunch?" Dean asked as he pushed his tray toward Sam. Not surprisingly, all that was left on Dean's plate was a pile of mixed vegetables.

"No thanks. I'm going to get my own lunch," Sam answered as he got up.

Dean shrugged his shoulders and turned back to Kylie.

"So, you allowed to date yet?" Sam heard Dean ask as he walked away. Sam rolled his eyes as he made his way to the lunch line at the front of the cafeteria.

Sam purchased his French bread pizza and mixed vegetables lunch complete with one carton of chocolate milk and a large sugar cookie and left the line. Their dad always let them buy lunch on their first day. After that, they had to pack to save money. Sam made his way toward Dean's table, but stopped when his path was suddenly blocked by a husky black haired boy who looked to be at least a couple of years older than Dean. Without warning, he knocked Sammy's tray to the floor with a crash.

Sam sighed, his previous cautiously optimistic opinion of this school quickly going south.

"Something wrong?" Sam asked, trying his best to stay calm and not escalate the situation further.

Their dad had taught them that when you were faced with a threat, whether it was something supernatural or a testosterone charged teenage boy, the tactics were the same. Stay cool. Sam was sure that most of the other kids were watching them by now, and he wondered how long it would be until Dean noticed as well. Guess Dean would get the chance to kick some ass after all. And it was only their _first_ day.

"Nothing's wrong with _me_. But there _is _something wrong with you!" the boy said as he pushed Sam back a few feet with large hands. "I don't like pretty boys. Makes me sick. Makes me want to punch your face in."

"Well, then let me pass and you won't have to look at me anymore," Sam said as he took a step to the side.

"Oh, I don't think so," the boy said as he grabbed the front of Sam's shirt, causing the other kids watching to yell and cheer, excited at the prospect of seeing a fight.

Dean looked up when a rise in noise toward the front of the cafeteria finally pulled his attention away from his new friend. He was momentarily confused why kids everywhere were rushing from their seats. Then he caught a glimpse of Sam and a tall black haired kid, standing _a lot_ closer to his brother than he liked, before the quickly growing crowd obscured his view.

"Crap," Dean mumbled as he jumped to his feet to go to his brother's aid.

"Get lost, Peter!" Dean heard another boy yell as he continued to push his way through the other kids to his little brother.

"This doesn't concern you, Jonathan," Peter said as he turned to look at the tall boy, although he did let go of Sam's shirt. "Unless this is your new boyfriend," the boy said with a laugh as he turned back to Sam.

"Well, Sam _is _a new friend of mine," Jonathan said as he whipped Peter back around and glared at him. "So leave...him...alone...NOW."

After kids began hurrying back to their seats, murmuring that teachers were coming, Peter threw his hands in the air.

"Fine, whatever," Peter said as he walked away. "The runt's not worth getting suspended over on the first day of school."

"Sam, you okay?" Dean asked as he finally made his way to Sam through the dispersing crowd.

"He's fine _now_," Jonathan answered in a way that _really_ rubbed Dean the wrong way.

Dean was about to tell this jerk to get lost and let his brother answer when Sam spoke.

"Jonathan, this is my brother, Dean," Sam said. "Dean, this is J-."

"Yeah. Nice to meet you," Dean said flatly as he took Sam's arm. "Come sit back down with us, Sammy. I'll get you another lunch."

"Actually, I was going to ask him to sit with me and my friends. I think you'll like them, Sam," Jonathan said as he motioned toward a nearby table where a blonde boy and another brown haired boy sat.

Sam looked from Jonathan's table to Dean and then back to the table. He pulled out of Dean's grasp, suddenly embarrassed by Dean ordering him around in front of Jonathan.

"I'm going to sit with them, Dean. See you after school," Sam said, as he looked away from Dean.

"Later dude," Jonathan said to Dean with a smile.

Without another word, Sam followed behind Jonathan to sit down at his table, leaving Dean standing in the aisle alone. Who _was_ that joker, Dean wondered, and he didn't mean the fat black haired kid. If you met one bully, you've met them all. But this Jonathan? Why would anyone _want _to help his brother, much less an older kid that Sam just met? It was his job to protect his little brother and no one else's. Dean shook his head and went back to rejoin Kylie, sure she could help take his mind off of it for now.

Sam sat down next to Jonathan and exchanged introductions with the other boys who were named Jason and Rob. Rob was in Sam's grade, but Jason, like Jonathan, was older. Made Sam feel good to sit at a table with older boys, especially when they weren't Dean's friends just humoring him.

"So, Sam," Jason said after he took a gulp from his iced tea carton. "What brings your family to our lame-o town?"

"Uh," Sam said before pausing, struggling to remember their current story that his father had carefully reviewed with them before school this morning. "My father. He's a…a real estate developer. Looking for new locations," Sam finally got out and smiled, pleased with himself.

"So it's just you and your dad then?" Rob asked.

"No, I have an older brother, Dean," Sam began to explain. "Jonathan just met him. He-,"

"He thinks he's _James _Dean," Jonathan said before he began to laugh. "You have _got_ to see him wearing his shirt with the collar up. It's hilarious!"

The other boys laughed as well and Sam was torn about how to react. He didn't like anyone making fun of his brother, but he wanted so badly to fit in with these boys. It felt good to have friends. And Dean picked on him all the time. It was all in good fun, right?

Dean leaned against the railing of the steps, having been impatiently waiting for Sam to come out of the school for fifteen minutes now. He didn't even want to _go_ to school, much less hang around _after_ school. It boggled his mind sometimes how he and Sam could be so different.

"Finally!" Dean exclaimed when Sam stepped out the double glass doors a moment later. Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance when he saw Jonathan and his two other loser friends walking close behind him. You have _got _to be kidding me, Dean thought. "Let's go, Sam. Dad's waiting for us."

"Hi, Dean. Uh-," Sam said as he walked up to his big brother.

Dean began to walk away, but stopped when Sam did not follow.

"Come on already!" Dean insisted.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again, as if not sure how he wanted to say what he wanted to say.

"What? Spit it out, Sam!" Dean demanded.

"We're all going to my house for awhile. Then my dad will drive Sam home," Jason answered matter-of-factly instead.

"Forget it!" Dean exclaimed as he glared at Sam.

"De-_ean_!" Sam said, embarrassed.

"You know the rules, Sammy. Now move your ass before I drag it home," Dean said.

"That's okay, Sam. We'll see you tomorrow," Jonathan said with a smile. "Maybe you can come with us another time."

Sam nodded. After waving goodbye, he followed behind Dean who had already started charging down the sidewalk.

"Why did you do that, Dean?" Sam pouted after he rushed to catch up to his brother.

"Why did _I_ do that? Why did you _do_ that? You know dad would never let you go over some strange kid's house," Dean answered.

"He's _not _some strange kid! He's my friend! It's what friends _do._ Why can't I go? Just this once?" Sam said.

"Because you're _seven_, Sam. You don't know JACK! Just drop it! NOW!" Dean said angrily as he grabbed Sam's shoulders and shook them hard.

Sam's lip began to quiver he looked away quickly. Seeing his brother's reaction, Dean took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly, realizing that he had gone a bit too far. He knew that his brother always tried _so_ hard to fit in. Maybe one day he would finally realize that it really was _not_ worth the effort. Family was all that mattered. Friends came and went as quickly as the towns they briefly stayed in.

"Look, I know the rules suck. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is. You want to play some ball when we get home?" Dean asked as he put his arm on Sam's shoulder, to ease his harsh words.

Sam shrugged Dean's arm off of him and resumed his pouting expression. Dean sighed, realizing that the short walk back to the motel would probably feel like miles instead.

"Hey, boys," John said with a smile as Sam and Dean entered the motel room. He carefully closed the large fragile looking book he was reading before asking, "How was school?"

Sam didn't stop to answer and instead stormed past him into the bathroom and slammed the door.

"What's with him? Someone pick on him at school already?" John asked, concerned, knowing that Sam always seemed to somehow attract trouble.

"Actually yeah, but that's not what he's upset about," Dean answered as he flopped down on the bed next the table where John was sitting.

"What do you mean?" John inquired. "He didn't get hurt, did he?"

"No, he's fine. His new friend told the bully to get lost before I could even get there. Then Sam ate lunch with him and two other kids. One of them even asked him back to his house after school," Dean explained as he chewed on his lip.

"So he's mad because he knew that I wouldn't let him go," John said, understanding now.

"Yeah," Dean said. "But it was all just…weird, dad. Like the kids were trying _too_ hard to be his friends, you know? Two of the kids were _my_ age!"

"Shut up, Dean! You're just jealous!" Sam shouted from the now open doorway to the bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest in anger.

"Yeah, riiiiiiiight. That's it, Sammy," Dean answered sarcastically.

John sighed.

"Dean, go outside." John said. "I want to talk to your brother alone, but stay close, you hear me?"

Dean threw his hands in the air and mumbled something, but did as his father asked and left.

"Dad, can I _please_ go over to Jason's house tomorrow? If I don't, they'll think I'm weird. _Please_," Sam pleaded.

"I'm sorry, but my answer is still no. Until I know what's going on in this town, I won't risk anything happening to you boys. Why don't you invite them here after school instead? I can get pizza for dinner," John suggested.

"Invite them _here_, dad? And show them that we're living in a dumpy motel room like a bunch of freaks? Then they'll for _sure_ think I'm a loser!" Sam exclaimed.

John looked at Sam's face and it broke his heart.

"I'm sorry. I can't let you go," John said.

"Because of what happened to Mom?" Sam asked quietly.

John didn't answer, instead pulling him into a hug. He couldn't bring himself to shatter his youngest son's innocence by giving him _all _of the answers he wanted to know. Sam deserved to know them, yes. Someday. But that someday was _not_ today. Not yet. He and Dean alone would bear that burden for now.

Outside, Dean angrily kicked a stone around the cracked blacktop of the motel's parking lot, unaware that three boys were again watching him.

"He gonna be a problem?" Rob asked from their hidden spot behind a large tree on a nearby hill.

"You kidding me? I shot and killed twelve of my classmates before they took me out and you killed your entire family and then yourself in a murder suicide on your graduation night. _One_ kid we can handle, if it comes to that," Jonathan said confidently. "You know, Jason, you never told us what _you_ did to go to hell or how long you were there before he got us all out."

"Oh, a little of this, and a little of that," Jason answered vaguely. "Doesn't matter how long I was there either."

"At least tell us your real name," Rob insisted. "You know ours. What's the big deal?"

"The less we know about each other the better! We don't want to slip up and use the wrong names in front of the humans or worse. We worked _too_ long and hard to mess it all up now," Jason answered.

"Fine. How long do you think we'll have to stay in these meat suits anyway?" Jonathan asked as his eyes continued to track Dean around the parking lot.

"Until he says we're done, you ass!" Rob answered.

"You know, I was thinking that we could show some initiative with Sam. Prove to him that we are ready for a lot more responsibility," Jason suggested.

"What the hell are you talking about? He told us to _watch_ him. Make friends with him. Didn't seem like he was interested in us doing _anything_ else with him or _to_ him," Rob commented. "I won't be sent back to hell. I won't!"

"Calm down, Rob. I want to prove myself too, and if Jason has some way to do that, then I want to hear it," Jonathan interrupted. "Go ahead, Jason."

"I have a little...test for Sammy boy that will help him to see whether or not the kid is worthy of being one of his chosen ones," the blonde boy answered.

"How are _we_ going to do _that_?" Rob asked skeptically.

"All in good time. Just do _as_ I say _when_ I say and not only will he _not _send us back to hell, he will reward us handsomely. You two in?" Jason asked with a smile.

After a moment of consideration, Jonathan and Rob both shook their heads in agreement.

"I'm in," Jonathan said with a big smile of his own.

"It does sound like _a lot_ more fun then playing nice with a hunter's spawn," Rob agreed.

The boys laughed and a moment later dashed from their lookout spot with lightning speed.

**Thanks again for reading and reviewing! You guys are great!**


	3. First Test

**Chapter 3: First Test**

_**Two Months Later...**_

"Can't I _please _have a whole cup of coffee?" Dean asked as the trio sat around the small table in their motel room eating their usual breakfast of cold cereal and toast. "You don't want me to sleep through class, do you?" Dean asked, disappointed when his dad, as usual, filled his mug with only a few swallows of the strong black liquid.

"No more, Dean. You don't want Sammy to outgrow you already, do you?" John asked with a smile as he put down the coffee pot.

"Like that's _ever _going to happen," Dean responded, garnering a glare from his little brother. "So have you figured out anything more about what's causing the omens, dad?" Dean said seriously a few moments later between sips of the hot coffee.

"Honestly? I'm not exactly sure. Two months ago, when we first came here, the omens were _everywhere_. But it was almost too much, you know? Laid on thick. Then it all but stopped, until two days ago that is. But it doesn't seem deliberate like before. You have to _really _look for the omens to catch them this time. I don't know. I'm going to go into town today and talk to some of the residents," John explained before glancing at his watch.

"Sounds like you really need my help today, don't you?" Dean asked his father. "Sam can pick up any homework from my classes and-."

"Nice try, kiddo," John said as he got up. "Speaking of school, it's time you two get out of here."

After the pair finished brushing their teeth and zipping up their jackets, John handed Sam his backpack off of the floor and kissed the top of his youngest son's head.

"Have a good day at school, Sam," John added before turning to Dean.

After he kissed the top of Dean's head as well, he said "Be safe and -,"

"Keep an eye on Sam," Dean finished his father's reminder with a roll of his eyes.

John smiled and playfully shoved the pair out the door and closed it behind them. As the pair made the walk to school, Dean got _very_ annoyed _very_ quickly when Sam kept stopping to reposition his backpack onto his right shoulder. Unfortunately, Sam was not yet big enough to keep Dean's old backpack from slipping off. After stopping for what seemed like the hundredth time in only a few minutes, Dean yanked the backpack from Sam's hand and put it on his own shoulder.

"De-_an_," Sam protested as he reached for his backpack in vain.

"Don't worry. I'll give it back to you when we're almost there, before anyone sees," Dean reassured his little brother.

Sam mumbled something Dean couldn't hear, but protested no further. Dean knew why. Dean was surprised to discover that the backpack was actually quite heavy. Guess that's what it felt like to take schoolwork home. Dean had willingly given Sam his old backpack when he asked him for it because they both knew he never used it, always finishing his work in homeroom or during other classes. Was there _really_ any other way?

"Dean?" Sam asked a moment later as the school building came into view.

"Yeah?" Dean answered as he handed Sam the backpack, helping him put _both_ arms through the straps this time.

"How long do you think we're going to stay here?" Sam asked. "I mean it's already been two months and it could be a lot longer, right? Maybe the rest of the school year? I mean we both heard what dad said this morning and -."

"Sammy," Dean said as he stopped walking for a moment to turn to look at his little brother who had suddenly become fascinated with a rubbing to toe of his sneaker on the sidewalk. He knew why his little brother was asking. "I told you once and I'll tell you again. It's a hell of a lot easier if you don't make friends in the first place."

Sam ran Dean's words through his mind over and over as he sat in math class. Lunch was next, where he would likely see Rob, Jason, and Jonathan again. Was Dean right about not making friends? He didn't want Dean to be right. He really liked them and they seemed to like him. Jonathan had even talked about having a birthday party and that he would be invited...

"Mr. Winchester!" His math teacher yelled, suddenly interrupting his thoughts.

Sam stiffened in his seat when he realized that the teacher, and everyone else in the class, was staring at him. He could feel his face and ears burning red with embarrassment.

"Yes?" Sam asked.

"Well? Do you know the answer?" the teacher asked.

"I'm…I'm sorry. Can…can you repeat the question, sir?" Sam asked after an agonizing moment of trying in vain to remember what the heck the teacher had been talking about for the past half hour.

"Mr. Winchester, it is imperative that you pay attention. If I catch you daydreaming again, I'll have you stay after school in detention to work on the problems with me that everyone else covered in class. Do you understand?" the teacher asked sternly.

_Detention? _Sam thought in horror. He couldn't have detention! Only bad kids got detention! His dad would be so mad and Dean would tease him about it _forever_!

"Yes…yes, sir. I'm sorry. It won't happen again," Sam said apologetically.

"Whiny Winchester crashes and burns!" a boy in the back of the class shouted, causing the other classmates to erupt into laughter.

"That's enough Mr. Carr. Class, settle down. Everyone, and that includes _you_ Mr. Winchester, turn to page 58 and start work on the even numbered problems," the teacher said next.

Sam quickly looked down at his textbook to begin the assignment, praying for his face and ears to return to their normal color.

"Hey, Sam," Jonathan called from a table after Sam walked into the cafeteria. "You look like someone killed your dog."

"Nah," Sam answered as he took the open seat across from Jonathan and Rob and next to Jason. "Math class was just a little rough today."

"I know a way that we can make you feel better," Jason said.

"Kill the teacher?" Rob suggested with a smile that immediately left his face after Jonathan elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"I say we get out of here," Jason suggested instead.

"What?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"I discovered a cool old abandoned house on my way to school this morning, thanks to a new shortcut, and I thought we could all go check it out. Right now is as good of a time as any," Jason explained.

"What, you think it's haunted? You scared to go in alone?" Rob asked with a smile.

"I said it looked _cool_," Jason responded. "Could be fun. You guys up for it?"

Rob and Jonathan looked at each other and then nodded yes.

"You in, Winchester?" Jason asked.

"Uh," Sam responded as his mind scrambled to give his mouth an answer.

"Unless you're scared. He's probably scared, being younger than us, and all. Can't handle it," Rob said.

"He can handle it. He's in. Right, Sam?" Jonathan asked.

Sam squirmed in his seat as three sets of eyes fell on him. Ditching school was _way_ worse than getting detention. Dean would _kill_ him. Then his dad would find a way to bring him back to life and then kill him _again_. But, boy, it would be fun. Dangerous. Dean was the one who always got to do the fun stuff with dad. He was always too little. Not this time. They didn't want Dean. They wanted _him_. And with the stuff that his family had been through, if they did see a ghost or something in the house, he would know exactly what to do. Then the other boys would be glad they brought him along, look up to him even. Think _he_ was cool. And he would be back before school got out. Dean would never even have to know that he ditched. It would be h_is _secret with _his_ friends.

"Okay," Sam said with a smile. "I'm in."

"Damn!" Rob said, followed by a string of other curse words, as he jiggled the doorknob. "Who would have thought that an old house would be so freakin' hard to get into? Even the windows are stuck shut! Any ideas, guys?" Rob said as he kicked the door in frustration before joining the others who were waiting on the dilapidated front porch steps.

"Maybe Sam can get us in," Jason said.

Again three sets of eyes settled on Sam.

"Um, I could try to pick the lock?" Sam suggested.

"You know how to do that?" Jonathan asked. "Cool!"

Sam beamed, but the elation was short lived when it dawned on him that he didn't have his lock pick kit with him. Well, it wasn't even _his_ lock pick kit. His dad let him carry his when they went hunting. But that was nothing. Dean got to carry a _gun_. No. He had to prove himself to the other boys. And to himself.

"Wish I had my lock pick kit with me, but since I don't, let's see if we can get in through a basement window," Sam said.

"Good idea," Rob said as he led the group down the steps, through the tall grass, and around to the back of the house.

"Eureka!" Jonathan yelled triumphantly as Sam pushed one of the small, rectangular basement windows up with great effort. It was just big enough for the boys to squeeze through.

After all four boys climbed inside, Jason took a small flashlight out of his pocket. He began to sweep the area around them with the beam.

"Oooh, creepy," Rob said with a giggle as the light shown on some shelves covered in dust and cobwebs as well as some piles of cardboard boxes. A moment later, the beam revealed a wooden staircase leading up to the first floor.

"Shut up and follow me," Jason said as he led the group toward the stairs, the darkness hiding the wide smiles of all but the clueless Sam.

Sam may have flunked the first test when he was unable to open the doors or windows at the front of the house that he had sealed shut, but Sam would have plenty more chances to prove himself as special and boy, Jason thought, was it going to be _fun_.

**I know it's short, so thanks for reading and reviewing. I hope to post again soon (after the wedding craziness calms down)**


	4. Scream for Mercy

_**

* * *

**_

Then…

"_Wish I had my lock pick kit with me, but since I don't, let's see if we can get in through a basement window," Sam suggested._

"_Good idea," Rob said as he led the group down the steps, through the tall grass, and around to the back of the house._

"_Eureka!" Jonathan yelled triumphantly as Sam pushed one of the small, rectangular basement windows up with great effort. It was just big enough for the boys to squeeze through._

_After all four boys climbed inside, Jason took a small flashlight out of his pocket. He began to sweep the area around them with the beam._

"_Oooh, creepy," Rob said with a giggle as the light shown on some shelves covered in dust and cobwebs as well as some piles of cardboard boxes. A moment later, the beam revealed a wooden staircase leading up to the first floor._

"_Shut up and follow me," Jason said as he led the group toward the stairs, the darkness hiding the wide smiles of all but the clueless Sam._

_Sam may have flunked the first test when he was unable to open the doors or windows at the front of the house that Jason had supernaturally sealed shut, but Sam would have plenty more chances to prove himself as special, Jason thought, and boy, was it going to be fun._

_**Now…**_

**Chapter 4: Scream for Mercy**

"Come on, Sammy! I don't have all day!" Dean muttered to himself as he continued to watch the other kids spill out of the front doors of the school and down the steps.

When the number diminished to a trickle and _still_ no Sammy, worry began to gnaw at Dean's gut. He ignored it at first, knowing that his little brother had the tendency to linger after class to talk to his teachers. Probably one of the only kids Dean knew of who actually _liked_ school. When four o'clock rolled around and Dean saw the teachers starting to leave the building as well, the overwhelming feeling of danger sprang Dean into instant action. Sprinting to the steps, Dean took them two at a time before continuing his dash into the hallway until he almost literally ran into a teacher.

"Kids are usually rushing to get _out_ of here," the young female teacher said with a kind smile. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my younger brother, Sam. He didn't come out yet-," Dean began to explain.

"Well, I'm the last one in the building, so I'm sure he's just off with friends or something. If you like, I'd be happy to help you call someone," she offered.

"No, no…uh…that's okay. Thanks," Dean said as he turned away from the teacher and began to sprint back down the hallway.

"Please walk, young man!" Dean heard the teacher call from behind him. Dean didn't listen, instead picking up speed. He didn't stop running until he was inside their motel room.

"Dean? What happened?" John asked with concern, quickly followed by, "Where's Sam?"

Out of breath, Dean had to wait a moment before he could speak, but he knew his father could read his anxious demeanor easily enough. Sure, kids ran off all of the time to do whatever. But _not_ Sam. And _especially_ not without telling Dean first, even if his little brother didn't want their father to know what he was up to. In their family, to break the rules did not simply mean risking getting grounded or losing t.v. privileges. It could mean _real_ trouble, the life or death kind.

"I…don't…know," Dean finally managed to blurt out.

John's posture immediately stiffened and he motioned for his son to sit down on the bed.

"Tell me _everything_, Dean," John instructed as sat down next to him.

"There's not much to tell," Dean answered, willing himself not to get upset in front of his father. "We went into school together and then I waited for him to come out. He didn't say he was going anywhere and I don't know how he could have gotten past me. "

"When was the last time you saw him?" John asked.

Dean thought for a moment, recognizing that his father was trying put together a timeline of when Sam may have disappeared.

"At lunch today. He was sitting with those three boys again and-," Dean said before a thought hit him and he looked up at his father. "Wait! I didn't think anything of it at the time, but I did see Sammy walk out of the cafeteria with them _before_ lunch was over. You don't think…you don't think he _cut_ school with them?"

John stared ahead as he pondered the possibility.

"He _has_ been upset lately that I've been keeping him from spending time with his friends outside of school. It's at least a place to start. First, I'll give their parents a call and see what I can find out," John decided, relieved when he remembered that Sam had at least followed his rule about always leaving him contact information for anyone the boys hung out with on a regular basis. John recognized that the rule would likely be viewed by others as unnecessary or paranoid, but in their line of work, John believed that you could _never_ be _too_ paranoid. "If that doesn't pan out, we'll hit the playgrounds, local pizza joint, and the arcade_. Whatever_ it takes."

"Dad?" Dean said softly, afraid his voice would break. John paused before picking up the phone receiver. "I'm…I'm sorry."

John put his arm around his son and squeezed his shoulder.

"We'll find him. You understand me? We WILL find him." John said with determination as he picked up the phone receiver and began to dial.

"Yes, sir," Dean answered, his gaze falling to stare at his shoes, feeling he would soon lose his battle with the tears. Without another word, Dean got up and waited outside while his father made the calls. Leaning up against the tree on the hill, Dean began to cry, not able to ignore the feeling that something was very, _very_ wrong and it was his entire fault…

* * *

With his heart pounding, Sam remained huddled in the corner of the large second floor bathroom of the old house, trying to keep the terror at bay that threatened to paralyze him. At least he had found a room with a door that locked, although he was aware that he was breaking an important rule by having no alternative exit. Who even knew if a lock would keep them out? What Sam _did_ know now was that his supposed friends weren't right. Weren't normal. Probably weren't even _human_. Adrenaline pumped through him and he was so, _so_ scared that he was seconds from bursting into tears again. He didn't care about taking care of business or…or proving that he could handle anything. He just wanted his dad. He _wanted_ Dean.

Sam wished if he thought hard enough or prayed hard enough, that his family would come for him. Save him. He didn't know much about what was going on, but he knew enough to realize that he was in big trouble. That he would maybe even die there. He next felt sorry for Dean and his Dad and hoped that dying didn't hurt as much as it looked like it did on t.v. No, no! He couldn't die. He couldn't do that to Dean and their Dad. He _had_ to keep it together. Do what Dad taught him to do. He forced himself to concentrate and began to run the events through his mind again to search for any clues that he may have missed…

_**Four hours ago…**_

"A run down kitchen?!!" Rob exclaimed in disappointment as they reached the top of the stairs and spread out into the dilapidated room. "This is _boring_."

"Calm down, Rob," Jason said with obvious amusement. "I'm sure there's a torture chamber on the second floor."

Sam feigned a smile, as there was nothing about torture chambers that he found funny. He and his family had seen a couple of them before, but he couldn't hold that against these naïve boys.

Suddenly, a banging noise echoed through the house and everyone temporarily froze.

"Oooo," Jonathan said as the others all giggled. "_Now_ it's getting interesting."

"Better not just be a stupid cat or something," Rob grumbled.

"Follow me, men," Jason instructed and the others gathered behind him.

Sam felt compelled to be at the end of the line, ready to protect the boys if they encountered anything other than an animal. Half of him wished they would, just so he could show them what he could do. Make them glad once and for all that they invited him along. As they began to ascend the nearby staircase to the second floor, they heard it again.

_BANG!_

The boys laughed as the banging noise startled them again, although this time it was much louder. Sam guessed that whatever was making that noise was likely in one of the end rooms. All six doors on the second floor were shut.

"Why don't we each take a door?" Jason suggested. "Sam? You take the last door on the right. I'll take the last on the left. Jonathan and Rob, the doors in the middle on the left and right. Okay?"

Everyone nodded in agreement and spread out. Slowly Sam headed down the hallway toward the closed door. He glanced behind him one more time as he reached out for the doorknob, but the hallway was already empty. The other boys must already be in their rooms. Sam, leaving the door to the hallway open, stepped inside the dark room.

Heavy curtains covering two windows to his right did little to illuminate the space. As he swept his flashlight across the barren room, he jumped when a strange crying sound began to sound from behind the closet door across the room. Sam laughed at himself, now even more convinced that it was a cat. What else would make that noise? Sam strode over to the closet door while calling out for the other boys.

"Hey, guys! I found the noi-," Sam said as he threw open the door.

Sam's exclamation was lost in his throat when a wriggling burlap sack that was tied with a thick rope at one end fell out of the closet and landed at his feet. Way, _way_ too big for one cat. Maybe a few cats? Odd muffled crying sounds continued to come from the closed sack.

"What do you have there, Sammy boy?" Rob asked.

Sam jumped at the sudden sound of his voice to see all three boys standing behind him now. He hadn't even heard their steps across the old floorboards.

"Looks like someone left you a gift," Jason observed.

"Why don't you open it?" Jonathan recommended with a smile that Sam noticed matched those on the other two boys' faces.

"What's going on?" Sammy asked, suddenly feeling as if something very weird and very wrong was going on, and all for _his_ benefit. A practical joke? Could it be that these boys never liked him in the first place? Sam began to get angry when Jason interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh, stop being such a baby, Sam. You'll like it, I promise," Jason said, impatiently.

"_Jason_," Jonathan hissed in warning.

"I'm bored with this charade. Let's see what the kid is made of," Jason responded as he ripped the rope from the sack and began to pull out its contents.

Sam watched in horrified awe as the boy pulled out the feet and then body of the terrified looking bully who had picked on Sam during lunch on their first day at school.

"What the heck is going on?" Sam exclaimed as he worked to untie the bully's hands. "This isn't funny anymore!"

"This isn't supposed to be funny, kid! This is as serious as it gets. He picked on you before, in front of _everyone_. Now's your chance to get even," Jason explained.

"They're crazy," the bully stuttered at Sam as he stood up shakily and rubbed his wrists. "You're all CRAZY! They grabbed me on the way to school this morning and boy am I going to make you all sorry-."

"Oh, can it, human," Rob said, annoyed. And with a flick of his wrist, the bully's lips closed. Sam watched confused as the bully continued to attempt to speak, but could not apparently open his mouth. The bully then made a move to dash out of the room. Instead he fell over, as if his feet were glued to the floor. The bully curled in on himself and began to cry.

Human? Sam thought to himself. Why would Rob call the bully human? Unless…

"Sam? What are you waiting for?" Jonathan insisted. "Go on!"

"I _will_ go and _he's_ coming with me. We _are_ getting out of here, right now!" Sam declared as he leaned down to help the bully to his feet.

Due to no reason that Sam could decipher, he fell over with the bully as an unknown force pulled the other boy back to the floor.

"I MEANT go on and kill him," Jonathan clarified. "Jeez, do I have to spell out everything? Not too smart, Sam. It's looking more and more like Jason was right about you."

"_Kill_ him?" Sam said in disbelief as he again reached for the bully who had now begun to wail and stood up again. "You guys are crazy if you think dying is something to joke about!"

Jason shook his head and pushed Sam back and to the floor. In a lighting fast motion, he pulled something from his pants and stabbed it at the bully. Sam's eyes widened and he stifled a scream in his throat as red bloomed out from the bully's chest. He had stabbed him with a knife! The bully's eyes desperately darted to Sam before he grunted and then was still, his unseeing eyes still staring at the young Winchester.

"What have you done?!!" Sam cried as he scurried to his feet and began to walk backwards toward the door. He had to get out NOW. HE HAD TO GET OUT NOW!

"Like we said. We weren't joking," Jason said before he and the other boys began to laugh.

With one more glance at the bully's body, Sam dashed out of the room and down the long hallway. Heart pounding, Sam skidded to a halt when he suddenly noticed the three boys inexplicably blocking the entrance to the top of the staircase.

"How did you do that?" Sam cried.

"Wow. Only someone so _unimpressive_ would be so impressed by the little that we have showed you so far," Jason answered as he and the three boys began to walk toward Sam.

Sam turned around and dashed into the next room, rushing to slam and lock the door behind him with shaking hands. He jammed himself between the far wall and the toilet and allowed himself to begin to cry as he listed to the three boys' laughter echo down the hallway.

* * *

_**Present time…**_

"Are we done?" Rob asked impatiently from where he and the other two had gathered in the hallway outside of the bathroom. "This is fun and all, but I think we have enough proof that this human Sam is a waste of space, right?"

"Yeah! Couldn't get us into the house and he wouldn't kill the bully from school even though we made it easy for him," Jonathan exclaimed with a kick to an unconscious man that now lay in a heap at his feet.

"_Almost _done," Jason informed them. "I already called our master to meet us here. It won't be long now until he comes and we are awarded. Just to be sure, out of the goodness of our _hearts_," Jason paused while he and the other boys laughed. "We'll give our buddy Sam one…last…chance."

"Sammy? Friend? Yoo hoo!" Jason now yelled through the bathroom door as he pounded his fist against it. "No more hiding! Chosen ones don't hide! You're supposed to be _sooooo_ powerful, aren't you? I have to tell you that we've been quite _under_whelmed by you today!" the demon boy teased. "I have the perfect way for you to prove yourself before its too late!"

Sam's eyes went wide and paused in his effort of searching the small room for _anything_ he could use to defend himself. _What now? _

"Let go of me right now!" a man yelled a moment later. Sam knew that voice. It was his teacher!

"No, no!" Sammy muttered as he dared to crawl closer to the door to better hear what was going on outside.

"You want him to die, Sam, right? Make him pay for making you look like a fool in front of your classmates? Then why don't you come do it yourself? If you don't do _something,_ _I'm_ going to kill him. Have all the fun to myself! The High One will not like that. You're supposed to be special! _Powerful! You_ should do it! Show us why a human deserves to be held in such high regard!" Jason taunted.

What did they mean by saying he was special? And who was this High One? All Sam did know was that he didn't want anyone else to die. Could he save the teacher if he gave himself up to the boys? At least one of them would survive then. He wiped away new tears with shaking hands and willed himself to unlock the door and step out. The three boys stood shoulder to shoulder behind his teacher who was bound and on his knees in front of them. Jonathan had the man's hair gripped firmly in his grasp. The teacher and Sam locked gazes.

"Let him go and you can do with me whatever you want. He won't tell anyone about this, will you?" Sam asked the man.

The teacher quickly shook his head no. Sam looked at the three boys before resting on Jason, the obvious leader of the group.

"That's it? Give yourself up to save a pathetic human? I don't get it, I really don't," Jason said with a shake of his head. He gripped at the back of the teacher's neck and with a quick twist, killed him. He fell to the floor with a thud. Sam yelled and backed away, but the boys appeared in front of him in an instant once again. Sam's mouth opened in shock at their speed…and at the color of their eyes now. Black! Who or WHAT were they? Sam stood frozen as the three surrounded him. His feet screamed at him to move, but they felt glued to the floor.

"What are you?" Sam whispered, unconsciously wrapping his arms around himself. "What do you want with me?"

"_We _don't want you at all! Don't you get it, you stupid fool? You're not worthy. We are sure of that now. When the Mighty One comes, he will know it too and praise us for our diligence," Jason answered followed by a laugh.

Suddenly, the doors began to bang and the windows rattled. POP, POP, POP! One by one the light bulbs that ran the length of the hallway exploded. Sam dropped to the floor and curled in on himself, doing his best to cover his head and face from the raining of glass.

"Yes, YES!" Jason yelled with a smile. "He IS here!"

Suddenly, the door at the far end of the hallway flew open. Although he was afraid, Sam couldn't help but look. Thanks to the dirty windows, it was dark, but soon two points of yellow pierced the shadows. Sam was confused until a body became visible as well. The person's eyes were glowing yellow. What now? A demon? What did it want? Sam tried to run, but a swift motion from Jason threw him again to the floor with a crack as his ankle twisted in an unnatural position. Sam grabbed his ankle and began to gasp as white hot pain shot through it. He was sure it was broken. With tear filled eyes and still holding his ankle, Sam again looked up at the man as he walked down the hallway towards them.

The demon paused a moment as if taking in the scene before him and then with a quick movement of his head, flew the bodies of the three boys against the wall, immobilizing them as well. Sam quickly forgot about his ankle as he watched the unreal scene unfold before him.

"WHAT have you DONE?" the man with the yellow eyes yelled at the three boys.

"We only wish to serve you. We thought that if you saw how weak the human boy really was, that he wasn't special, that you would be-," Jason began before the demon made a motion with his hand and the boy's lips sealed themselves together.

"What? _Grateful?_" the man growled inches from Jason's face. "I didn't ask you to think! I didn't ask you to do anything but WATCH him! You do not understand what you have DONE! How quickly you jeopardize the fate of all in hell?"

"I…I told him it was a bad idea! I didn't want to do it! I..-" Jonathan added quickly.

The yellow eyed demon scowled at him and then began to chant in Latin. Jonathan screamed before black smoke poured out of the boy's mouth and seeped into the wooden floor boards underneath him. The boy's body dropped like a sack of potatoes and didn't move again. Sam whimpered and held his hand over his mouth to keep from screaming himself.

"Oops," the Yellow Eyed Man said sarcastically.

"Please! Let me make it up to you! I will do anything!" Rob insisted before he too was met with the same fate.

"Now I'll have to take his memory of this from him, risk damaging him. And I had such high hopes for _you_, Lilith," the yellow eyed demon said as he shook his head. "Now you will never reach your true potential or know true spoils."

"You…you send me back to hell and I WILL get my revenge on you AND your pathetic human!" the demon Lilith yelled.

"Go ahead and try!" the yellow eyed demon said with a smile before he chanted in Latin again. Sam watched as Jason, or rather Lilith, dropped next to the other boys on the floor before he looked up at the yellow eyed demon again in absolute terror.

"Now, now. Don't be scared. We've met before, although you were too young to remember. But I can't have you remember meeting me now either. It is not yet time for our work together," the yellow eyed man said as he kneeled down in front of Sam.

"Don't! Don't touch me! Or..or my dad will find you and kill you!" Sam stammered fearfully as he tried in vain to squirm away from the demon.

"Yes. There is that. Another superb reason for me to move this along. Now, I wish I could say this won't hurt, but that would be a lie," the yellow eyed man said with another smile.

Before Sam could even flinch, the demon grasped his hands on either side of Sam's head and began to chant something else in Latin. Sam could not break free, helpless. The youngest Winchester felt nothing at first, then discomfort, and then pain so intense that he thought surely his head would explode. In an almost out of body experience, Sam heard himself begin to scream for mercy from the agony and then finally for death…

* * *

John parked the Impala in front of the old run down house and turned off the ignition. It was a long shot, but after none of Sam's friends' parents knew where their kids may be, John had taken their search out into the neighborhood. They finally hit pay dirt when the first boy Dean recognized at a nearby basketball court told them that he once overheard the boys Sam was hanging around with mention this abandoned place.

"He better be here and after I hug the life out of him, I'm going to ground him until he's eighteen," John grumbled as he and Dean got out of the black classic car.

Dean nodded. He had been thinking the very same thing.

"Stay close, Dean," John instructed as they strode up the narrow sidewalk and up the broken steps to the landing. "This place looks unstable to say the least."

John jiggled the doorknob. Locked. He attempted to peer inside, but could see little through the prismed glass. Suddenly, muffled screaming filled their ears.

"Stand back!" John ordered as he shouldered his way through the door.

The screaming was no longer muffled now.

"It's Sammy!" Dean yelled fearfully, instantly recognizing his brother.

Father and son dashed up the stairs to find Sam in the hallway, curled into a ball, screaming. It tore John's heart out. John next noticed the unmoving, seemingly dead bodies of the other three boys on the floor nearby that Dean gave a wide berth before rushing to kneel next to his little brother.

"Sammy?" Dean asked quietly.

"Let me at him, Dean," John said as he gently pushed his oldest away. "Go check on the other boys."

When Dean still didn't move, John said loudly, "_Now_, Dean!"

Dean blinked, finally snapping out of it to let his father examine Sam, and went over to the other boys.

"Sam, SAM!" John yelled after taking Sam's head between his hands. Sam continued to scream and cry. "LOOK at me, son! You're safe now! Dean and I are here! You're okay! Please...please stop screaming and tell us what happened!"

Dean was scared before, but his terror grew when he realized that Sam didn't seem to recognize their father.

"Dad," Dean said in a shaky voice from his spot by the boys. "What's wrong with him?"

"Just give me a minute, Dean, okay, son?" John said in a voice that he hoped _sounded_ calm.

John carefully ran his hands over his youngest son's body, finding no injury but a swollen ankle. Surely that would cause this catastrophic reaction. Sam had seen and had much worse, unfortunately. What the hell was wrong with him? He scooped up his youngest son and held him tightly to his chest. John could feel the young boy shaking furiously and his heart pounding like a jack hammer against him. Still Sam continued to scream as John rubbed circles on his back in one last attempt to calm him enough that they could leave the house without drawing too much attention.

"Shh, Sammy," John soothed as he swung around to take in any clues. Then a familiar smell finally registered. _Sulfur_. Demons! Too many questions filled John's mind, but there was no time to worry about the answers now. Not until Sammy was okay. It was too dangerous for either of his boys to linger there any longer.

"Any pulses?" John asked unnecessarily. He knew the answer before Dean confirmed it with a shake of his head, again sorry that someone as young as Dean had already seen his share of dead bodies.

"We have to get out of here, NOW, Dean," John said, trying his best to hide his fear from his older son. "I can come back later to investigate. After Sammy's okay and the two of you are safe somewhere else far away."

Dean, shaking now and crying silent tears, found it so difficult to tear his eyes away from his little brother's hysterical form.

"Don't be scared, Dean. But I have to do this," John said as he clamped his hand over Sam's mouth in an effort to quiet his screams enough to get to the car.

"I'm so sorry, son, that I wasn't here to protect you," John whispered into Sam's ear too quietly for Dean to hear as began to stride toward the stairs.

Without another look back, Dean followed his father and little brother down the stairs and out of the wretched house.

* * *

_**That night…**_

"It's okay, Dean," John reassured his oldest son. "Sammy will be fine. We'll figure it out. Why don't you go back to your bed? Bobby will be here early in the morning."

Dean shook his head yes, but remained planted where he stood next to John's double bed, holding his little brother's limp hand in his. John sighed, but did not press the issue further. Dean was terrified. Could he blame him? So was he, after all. John continued to stroke his youngest son's back, holding him close to his body. Sammy made no sounds or movements; the only indications that he was conscious were his racing heartbeat and wide staring eyes. At least his youngest son was mostly quiet now, if only because Sam's voice had grown too hoarse to make more than a rasping sound. God, what did I miss? John thought silently. WHAT DID I MISS?

"You want to sleep with us?" John asked Dean a moment later.

Dean nodded his head yes again and climbed into bed next to Sammy, still tightly holding his little brother's hand.

**Wow, that ended up being a big chapter! Hope you found it worth the wait! I will try to post again soon. One quick warning: as I started this story a while ago, events here will not necessarily fit in with current events of the show. **


	5. Reinforcements

_**Then…**_

"_Its okay, Dean," John reassured his oldest son. "Sammy will be fine. We'll figure it out. Why don't you go back to your bed? Bobby will be here early in the morning."_

_Dean shook his head yes, but remained planted where he stood next to John's double bed, holding his little brother's limp hand in his. John sighed, but did not press the issue further. Dean was terrified. Could he blame him? So was he, after all. John continued to stroke his youngest son's back, holding him close to his body. Sammy made no sounds or movements; the only indications that he was conscious were his racing heartbeat and wide staring eyes. At least his youngest son was mostly quiet now, if only because Sam's voice had grown too hoarse to make more than a rasping sound. God, what did I miss? John thought silently. WHAT DID I MISS?_

"_You want to sleep with us?" John asked Dean a moment later._

_Dean nodded his head yes again and climbed into bed next to Sammy, still tightly holding his little brother's hand._

_**Now…**_

**Chapter 5: Reinforcements **

John breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed that Sam finally fell asleep around 4 AM. Although his right arm had gone completely numb, John decided against moving it and risking waking up his traumatized son. John decided instead to turn his head to the left and check on Dean again. His oldest son had been wriggling around a lot the past hour, possibly due to a nightmare, but seemed to be now sleeping soundly as well. Dean looked _so_ young when he was sleeping, in contrast to the tough, mature demeanor that he tried so hard to project when he was awake. John smiled and after a few moments, finally let his eyes close too. Both of his boys were safe and asleep for now.

When a loud alarm suddenly began blaring in the room, John jumped and flung out his left arm, startling Dean who then stumbled out of the bed and fell to the floor. Dean stood back up quickly as John leaned over to turn off the alarm clock. It read 6 AM. They had to get ready. Bobby would be there soon.

"_Jeez_, dad. Lower the volume a notch. It sounded like we were under nuclear attack," Dean grumbled as he rubbed his eyes and yawned.

"You okay?" John asked with a smile.

"Yeah. How's Sammy?" Dean asked as he leaned over the bed to study his younger brother.

John looked down at Sam as well. He could see that his youngest son was also awake, his arm now wrapped around John's chest and his body pressed against his side.

"Why don't you ask him?" John suggested as he gently pushed Sam's long bangs out of his face.

"Sammy? You okay now?" Dean asked hopefully.

Sam didn't answer, nor did he move. Fear and anxiety again momentarily gripped at John's chest and he hoped that they didn't show on his face. Dean must have had similar feelings though because when John looked up again, he saw Dean slowly backing away from the bed.

"Dean, it's okay," John said gently. "I'm sure he's glad that we're here and talking to him, even if he's not answering us right now-."

"No! Maybe he blames me for whatever happened to him! And you know what? I'd agree with him! This is _all_ my fault!" Dean yelled before he dashed for the bathroom and slammed the door.

As he began to sob tears of fear and frustration, Dean slid down the cold tile of the bathroom wall and pulled his knees into his chest.

"Dean?" John asked through the door. "Can I come in?"

Dean didn't answer, but wasn't surprised when John came in anyway. Dean furiously wiped away the tears as he watched his father sit down on the edge of the tub.

"I want you to believe that this is _not _your fault, whatever happened to your brother. _None_ of this is your fault. We'll figure it out and he'll be fine, okay?" John said reassuringly.

"You don't know that! What if…what if he's like that _forever_?!" Dean exclaimed tearfully.

"I wouldn't let that happen. You trust me right?" John asked.

"Of course!" Dean implored as if John had just asked him the most obvious question in the world.

"Then trust me on this too, okay?" John asked.

"Okay," Dean finally agreed as he stood up, feeling silly now at his emotional display in front of his father.

John stood up as well and gave his son a quick hug, as to not embarrass his son further.

"Take a shower and get ready. Bobby will be here before you know it," John said as he walked past Dean and shut the bathroom door behind him.

A moment later, John heard the shower turn on. Sighing again, John turned on the old coffee maker on top of the small mini-fridge. He hoped the caffeine would help stop his developing headache and revive him from his lack of sleep. John turned back to look at Sammy under the covers on the bed. The boy was still staring straight ahead.

* * *

_**Two hours later…**_

Dean, who had been busying himself for the past hour by watching for Bobby's truck to enter the motel's small parking lot, suddenly yelled, "Dad! He's here!"

"Well, let him in," John responded as he heard the knock on their door a few moments later.

After Dean excitedly threw open the door, Bobby grabbed Dean into a big hug.

"Look at you, boy! Getting taller by the minute," Bobby said with a smile. "Hey, John."

"Bobby," John said as the two shook hands. "Thanks for coming on such short notice."

"Ehh, got nothing exciting going on back home," Bobby replied with a smile before adding in a serious tone. "And nothing is more important than family."

"Hey, Dean?" John asked after turning to his oldest son. "Go get Bobby's bag out of the truck."

"Sure, dad!" Dean agreed, happy for something to do and permission to go outside.

"How's Sammy?" Bobby asked as he looked over at the youngest Winchester who was still lying in the bed.

"No change. You get a chance to swing by that old house and check it out?" John asked as he motioned for Bobby to join him at the table by the window.

"Yeah. But ain't much left. It burned down last night, according to the lady next door," Bobby explained.

John's jaw dropped in shock, but the two were forced to momentarily pause their conversation when Dean reentered the room carrying Bobby's duffle bag. Dean attempted to sit down with the pair, but John quickly stopped him.

"Can you give us a little more time, Dean? Go wait outside. But do not, DO NOT, leave my line of sight from this window. You understand?" John asked.

"I'm not a baby, Dad! Tell me what's going on! Let me help!" Dean protested.

"I know you're not a baby, but I need to talk to Bobby alone first. _Then_ you can help. I promise," John explained.

Seeming to understand that his father was not going to change his mind, Dean reluctantly nodded and headed back outside.

"The bodies of the three boys and Sam's teacher?" John asked.

"According to the police, they found the bodies of _four_ kids and one adult male, but don't have a definite ID on them of course. That's all they would tell me for now, even with my using my fake badge and ID," Bobby explained. "Guess they don't trust outsiders."

"God, Bobby. _Five_ bodies? And the kids? This kills me _every_ time. They were someone's _children_," John said as he ran a hand over his face now covered with dark stubble.

"I know, I know. But at least you and the boys are okay," Bobby said.

"Not okay yet, but we will be," John said as he glanced again in Sam's direction. "She agreed to come?"

"Yes. I picked her up at the airport late last night and she's already checked in at a bed and breakfast across town, just like you asked. Why didn't you want her to come here with me now?" Bobby asked.

"I didn't want to scare Dean and it's too risky to have all of us together in one place, you know?" John asked.

Bobby nodded in understanding as he reached into his shirt pocket and handed John a small slip of paper.

"Well, here's the address and her phone number. She said to call whenever you're ready and she'll do anything she can to help."

John nodded and took the piece of paper, fingering it in his hand.

"I really appreciate your help and input on this one too, Bobby. _None_ of what has been going on is adding up. We have four dead kids, one dead man with a broken neck who was tied up, evidence of a demon, a house that burned down sometime after we left and...and Sam. Alive, but traumatized."

"We'll figure it out," Bobby replied.

"We have too. I have to know what happened to my boy and how or if a demon was involved. I also _have_ to know if it was random or..or if it was targeting Sam. I can't…-" John said before pausing when he felt himself beginning to choke up with emotion. He was able to compose himself again after a moment of silence. "I can't lose either of my boys, Bobby. I wo_n't_. After this is all over, _when _Sam's okay, things are going to have to change."

Bobby nodded, but didn't ask John what he meant. After a quick glance out the window to see Dean leaning against Bobby's truck, John got up and walked over to the bed. He sat down and took the receiver in his hand. After dialing the number on the slip of paper, he waited for the familiar voice to answer.

"Hello, John," the woman answered.

"Hello, Missouri," John said.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Check back soon!**


	6. Fix Him

_**Then…**_

"_I really appreciate your help and input on this one too, Bobby. __None__ of what has been going on is adding up. We have four dead kids, one dead man with a broken neck who was tied up, evidence of a demon, a house that burned down sometime after we left, and...and Sam. Alive, but traumatized."_

_"We'll figure it out," Bobby replied._

"_We have too. I have to know what happened to my boy and how or if a demon was involved. I also __have__ to know if it was random or..or if it was targeting Sam. I can't…-" John said before pausing when he felt himself beginning to choke up with emotion. He was able to compose himself again after a moment of silence. "I can't lose either of my boys, Bobby. I wo__n't__. After this is all over, __when __Sam's okay, things are going to have to change."_

_Bobby nodded, but didn't ask John what he meant. After a quick glance out the window to see Dean leaning against Bobby's truck, John got up and walked over to the bed. He sat down and took the receiver in his hand. After dialing the number on the slip of paper, he waited for the familiar voice to answer._

"_Hello, John," the woman answered._

"_Hello, Missouri," John said._

_**Now…**_

**Chapter 6: Fix Him**

"It's been a long time, although I'm sorry our reunion is due to such difficult circumstances," Missouri said next, her voice still conveying the sing-song quality that John remembered so fondly.

"I know," John agreed. "The boys are a lot bigger than the last time I showed you pictures of them. Dean acts as if he can't wait to grow up and Sam, he's-."

John paused there when his eyes darted unconsciously to Sam and the rest of what he intended to say got caught in his throat. Missouri, obviously understanding the reason for his difficulty, spoke instead.

"I'll be waiting. See you soon," Missouri said before hanging up.

John hung up the receiver as well and for a moment watched Dean through the window. He had not moved from his spot where he was leaning up against Bobby's truck. It was odd for John to see his oldest son standing still for more than a few minutes. Whereas Sam could sit and read a book for hours, probably for days if he let him, Dean always seemed to be on the move. It seemed wrong that Dean should be still now and at that moment, that bothered John very much. In two long strides, John was at the door. He opened it and called Dean to back inside.

"Get ready for school. Bobby'll drive you," John informed him.

"_What_? School? No way! Let me help with Sammy!" Dean protested.

"That's exactly what you're going to do. I need you to talk to your classmates and teachers without drawing any suspicion about why you're asking other than morbid curiosity. See if you can learn anything about the fire. Try to verify the identity of the four kids who died in that house. I also need to know if they or Sam's math teacher have displayed any odd behavior lately, changes in their usual daily routines…you know the drill. Go so far as checking out their lockers and the teacher's desk if you think you can do so without getting caught. Can you handle that?" John asked his oldest son.

Dean's angry expression quickly changed into one of eager determination.

"Of course I can handle it! Want me to search their houses too?" Dean asked hopefully. "You know how good I am with locks and there might be clues-."

"Nice try, kid, but Bobby will take of that while you're at school," John declined with a smile.

"What about you and Sam?" Dean asked while motioning with his hand toward his brother on the bed.

"Sam and I have an appointment," John explained.

"Appointment with who?" Dean asked, confused.

"An old friend of mine who might be able to help Sam get better. You'll meet her someday," John answered. "But today, my boy, is _not _someday. Now grab a sandwich out of the fridge and wait for Bobby in his truck to drive you to school."

Dean nodded and quickly did as his father instructed, only stopping when John gently tugged him to his chest for another quick hug.

"Bobby or I will pick you up after school. Do NOT walk home. Be safe, son," John said into the top of his head.

Dean nodded.

"Good luck," Dean said before dashing outside.

John's heart swelled with feelings of pride and love for his oldest son who was doing so well, being so brave under these difficult circumstances.

"You too!" John called after him as he watched him get inside the truck.

"Here are the addresses of the three kids we know about as well as the math teacher. Start there and we can meet back here," John said as he handed Bobby a piece of paper with a shaking hand.

Without comment, although John was sure his friend noticed the tremor, Bobby locked eyes with his friend, took the piece of paper, and left as well, gently closing the door behind him.

"Well, kid," John said as he turned to Sam. "Time for us to get ready to go too. Missouri is waiting. I know you'll really like her. She is certainly one of a kind."

Fifteen minutes later, John had taken a shower quicker than any he had as a Marine as well as had Sam dressed in fresh clothes. Careful not to jostle his son's ace bandaged sprained ankle, he lifted up Sam's limp body. John couldn't remember the last time he carried either of his sons, but he was sure it had likely been during one of their pretend WWF wrestling matches. John allowed himself a smile at that memory as he carried his youngest out to the Impala. They were growing up so fast. Too fast for John most days. Gently he positioned his Sam in the backseat of the classic car. His smile faded. Sam looked so helpless. _Please_, _please_, John begged silently. _Let_ _him be okay._

It only took ten minutes to get across town and John's heart beat faster by the minute as he approached the bed and breakfast. However, as soon as he saw Missouri, waiting outside for him wearing her big, warm smile, he instantly relaxed. After John parked the car in a nearby parking space, he stepped out. He couldn't help but smile himself. It felt good to see her.

"Well, look at you, John Winchester. When did you get so old?" Missouri joked as she and John hugged.

"Being a single parent of two independent minded boys can do that to a man. Even one who was a Marine," John answered with a laugh.

Missouri nodded, her expression turning serious as she walked closer to the car to get a look at Sam on the back seat. John wondered if she already felt something or could hear any of Sam's thoughts. John had first met back the African American woman in their hometown of Lawrence, Kansas when he was just beginning his desperate search for answers regarding his wife's death from some unknown, seemingly impossible, entity. Missouri had advertised in the phone book as a psychic who had the ability to read energies and thoughts. John soon learned her abilities were the real deal, but she also had a warmth and insight that were equally genuine and invaluable.

"Bring the poor baby inside," she instructed.

John nodded and after picking up Sam again, followed Missouri through the main entrance and up the steps to the second floor. He was relieved that no one else seemed to be around.

"Yes, we are alone for the time being," Missouri confirmed.

A moment later, Missouri paused at a door and opened it with a key that she pulled from her pants pocket. She walked inside and motioned for John to lay Sam on the bed.

"So how do we do this?" John asked.

"This is new territory for me," Missouri confessed. "But I will do my best and we'll hope for the best, okay?"

John nodded and leaned against a nearby wall to allow her room to work.

"It's okay, John," Missouri reassured him. "Take a deep breath."

"Sorry. Is my anxiety too loud?" John asked with a nervous smile.

"Something like that," Missouri replied with a smile of her own.

A moment later, she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths of her own. She positioned her hands about two inches above Sam, starting at his feet. When she reached his head, she gasped and stumbled back. John rushed over to steady her before she lost her balance completely. She opened her eyes, now rimmed with tears, and put her hand over her mouth.

"What? What!" John asked fearfully.

"Poor, _poor_ baby," she said breathlessly.

"Missouri, please. What did you feel?" John asked.

"Evil. _Great_ evil," she whispered as she wiped away an errant tear.

"What kind of evil?" John asked.

"I cannot say," Missouri answered.

"Is it…is it the same evil that came to our house that night? That killed Mary?" John asked after a moment.

However afraid he was of hearing the answer, he _had_ to know what it was and if it had come for his family again.

"I honestly don't know. Could be," Missouri replied.

"What…what else? Can you hear anything from Sammy?" John asked.

Missouri nodded and cocked her head toward the boy as if listening to something.

"Whispers only. Almost as if he is tucked away somewhere deep within his mind. Whether he is hiding there voluntarily or the evil entity put him there, I don't know that either," Missouri continued before she took another deep breath.

"Can you at least tell if…is he in pain now? He was screaming _so_ loud when we found him-," John asked before his voice trailed off, lost in the horrible memory. The only time he had felt more helpless was that night Mary died.

Missouri stepped over to Sam, this time taking his small hand in hers.

"No, he does not seem to be pain," Missouri answered.

John breathed a sigh of relief before asking, "Can you, for the lack of a better word, fix him?

"I think so, yes," Missouri confirmed. "_If_ I can get him to hear me and respond to my voice. But John, do not expect him to have all of the answers that you seek."

John looked from his friend to his son and then back to his friend. Of course, she had read his thoughts as well. He nodded his head and shoved his still shaking hands in his pocket.

"Good. Now, I must concentrate," Missouri said before she pulled the nearby desk chair over to the bed and again took Sam's hand in hers.

John watched as Missouri leaned in close to Sam.

"Sam? My name is Missouri. Your father is a friend of mine. I know that you are lost and that you are very afraid. He asked me to help you find your way back to him and Dean. I need you to listen very carefully and do exactly as I say. Can you do that? Squeeze my hand if you understand," Missouri instructed.

John shook his head when Sam's hand did not move.

"Missouri-," John interrupted.

"Shh! Give him time!" Missouri demanded with her eyes still closed before continuing in her soothing voice. "Now, Sam, focus on my voice. I will tell you what to do if you listen very closely. Can you hear me yet?"

Missouri paused for a moment and then smiled.

"Yes. I hear you too," she replied.

"You do?" John asked. "I didn't hear him say-."

"John, I hear him in my mind. Now, please, be quiet?" Missouri asked.

John nodded in agreement and Missouri continued.

"Sam, feel my hand holding yours. I will not let go. Allow me to guide you through the darkness to safety…to your family. Do not look back at the fear which threatens to keep you locked away. Squeeze my hand if you can," she instructed.

John gasped when he saw his son's hand tighten around Missouri's. Tears filled his eyes, but he would not yet let himself believe Sam was out of the woods. With a pounding heart, he watched and listened as Missouri spoke again.

"Very good, sweetie. Now, I want you to not only hear my voice and squeeze my hand, but feel your body as well, okay?" Missouri asked before pausing again. "Oh, I've lost him again. It's okay, John. This will just take some time."

John nodded again, willing himself not to lose hope. After a tense half an hour later, Missouri smiled.

"There. Yes, Sam. I hear you again. Now, continue to squeeze my hand and I'll help you regain control of the rest of your body. Starting with your toes, allow your awareness to sweep up from them to your feet and next to your legs," Missouri continued.

For the next hour, John anxiously listened to the psychic work to awaken Sam's awareness of his body. He wished he was psychic at that moment so he too could know what was going on and help in some way.

"…feel the sensation of your body against the bed as well as the blood pumping through your veins. Yes, very good, Sam. You are doing so well. We are almost done, now," Missouri said as she began to stroke Sam's cheek. "Now, do you feel my hand on your face? Good. Your body is ready for you now. It is time to open your eyes," Missouri said.

For what seemed like an eternity but was likely only a few seconds, John held his breath as he waited for Sam to finally respond in a way that he could see or hear. It was well worth the wait. Sam's bluish green eyes fluttered open a moment later and focused on Missouri.

"Hello, Sam," Missouri said soothingly before letting go of his hand and standing up."Your father is right here."

"Thank God you're okay!" John exclaimed before rushing over to his son and scooping him up into a hug.

"Dad," Sam croaked as he hugged his father back. John could feel Sam begin to tremble and then cry.

John held his son tight and said, "You're okay now, Sammy."

"Here's some water, sweetie," Missouri said as she offered him a glass.

Sam nodded and gulped the water thankfully.

"Tell me," John said as he pushed Sam back a little so he could look him in the eye. "What happened?"

"I don't know," Sam answered. "I don't remember anything after going into the house with my friends. Where are we now?"

"Missouri?" John asked.

"He's telling the truth. I'm not getting anything," she replied.

"Please, Sam. Why did you go to the house with those boys? Why was your teacher there? Was one of them possessed by a demon? Did it say what it wanted from you? Was any of it on purpose or was it coincidence that you were there?" John asked, firing one question off after another.

"John," Missouri cautioned as she watched Sam tense up again.

"I went with the boys to the house because they asked me to, because we all thought it would be cool. What about my teacher? And a demon? I don't...I don't understand what's going on!" Sam insisted.

"This is important! Try to remember!" John implored.

"I can't!" Sam reiterated desperately.

"Try harder!" John demanded.

"JOHN!" Missouri yelled, pulling the man's attention away from his son. Her expression was stern. "_Enough_!"

John looked from her back to Sam who looked as if he was about to start crying again.

"I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm just trying to protect my family," John apologized.

"I understand your feelings of helplessness, but we can accomplish no more here," Missouri said him with a gentle hand on his. "Everyone is safe. Sam is all right now. Believe it."

John nodded.

"Because of you. There is no way I can express the gratitude I am feeling for that," John said to Missouri.

"Just take care of your boys. That will be thanks enough," Missouri said.

"Well, we better get going. Ready to go, son?" John asked Sam.

Sam nodded and began to move off of the bed.

"Let me help you. Your ankle is sprained, another mystery that it looks like we may never solve," John explained as he helped support his son.

"Take care, Sam," Missouri said as she hugged the boy.

"Thank you," Sam said.

"I'll be in touch," John said as he and Missouri hugged.

"You better be," she said with a smile. "See you around."

A few minutes later, after she watched John through the window of her rented room drive out of the parking lot, Missouri dropped back onto the desk chair. Head in her hands, she began to sob for John and for his boys. Mostly, however, she shed tears for Sam. Great evil visiting that boy twice in his life, she knew, was _not_ random.

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! Only one more chapter to go, so check back soon for the conclusion. Have a great Memorial Day!**


	7. Sacrifice

_**Then…**_

_"I understand your feelings of helplessness, but we can accomplish no more here," Missouri said him with a gentle hand on his. "Everyone is safe. Sam is all right now. Believe it."_

_John nodded._

"_Because of you. There is no way I can express the gratitude I am feeling for that," John said to Missouri._

"_Just take care of your boys. That will be thanks enough," Missouri said._

_"Well, we better get going. Ready to go, son?" John asked Sam._

_Sam nodded and began to move off of the bed._

"_Let me help you. Your ankle is sprained, another mystery that it looks like we may never solve," John explained as he helped support his son._

"_Take care, Sam," Missouri said as she hugged the boy._

"_Thank you," Sam said._

"_I'll be in touch," John said as he and Missouri hugged._

"_You better be," she said with a smile. "See you around."_

_A few minutes later, after she watched John drive out of the parking lot from the window of her rented room, Missouri dropped back onto the desk chair. Head in her hands, she began to sob for John and for his boys. Mostly, however, she shed tears for Sam. Great evil visiting that boy twice in his life, she knew, was not random._

**Now…**

**Chapter 7: Sacrifice**

John anxiously again glanced back at Sam who was being unnaturally quiet on the short ride back to their motel.

"I'm okay, Dad," Sam assured him in a quiet voice, although he didn't bother to lift his head from where he was resting it against the passenger side window. "I'm just really tired."

"And confused too, I'd bet," John added in another attempt to engage his youngest in conversation. "I think it would make you feel better to talk about what happened. Even if we don't have all the answers-."

"Talk about _what_?" Sam shrieked, angry tears welling in his eyes. "You told me that EVERYONE else who was in the house is now dead _but_ ME. Three of the kids were my friends and one was my teacher! So tell me, dad, what else is there to say?!"

John sighed as he pulled the car into the lot and then into a parking space. When Sam moved to get out, John stopped him with a gently grip on his arm.

"_Please_, just let me go," Sam begged through the tears, the previous anger replaced with grief.

Without further protest, John nodded and hurried around the car to help Sam into the motel room. He hoped that maybe Dean would have more luck with Sam when he got back from school. Better yet, maybe Dean would have some information for them as well. John next helped Sam to the bathroom. After pausing at the door until he heard the water turn on for a bath, he walked over to the table and opened up one of his old books. However, only moments later the words were too blurry to read. John let himself cry with relief for a few minutes that his son was okay before wiping them away. Soon angry resolve replaced the anguish and he slammed his fists on the table, again vowing to himself that he had _no_ choice but to soon make some _very_ tough changes to protect his boys…

_That afternoon…_

John may have cried again at the sight of Dean and Sam's reunion a few hours later… the hugging, the smiling, the brotherly teasing… if he wasn't so damned angry again. Bobby, who was sitting next to him at the table, had just informed him that he had found nothing out of the ordinary in the houses of the children or Sam's teacher. Nothing but more dead ends! And by the look on Bobby's face, his friend seemed just as angry at what he had just told him about his new plan of action regarding his boys.

"Can we go outside?" Bobby hissed, telling John it was more of a request than a question.

"What?" John asked.

"What? _What?_ You know what! You're planning to turn your sons into soldiers? You'd do that to them? After all they've lost, don't take away their childhood too!" Bobby implored.

"Better than their lives!" John responded angrily. "What I've taught them so far about the supernatural has obviously NOT been _nearly _enough! I realize that now! I have to step it up. Teach them everything I have learned, and I mean _everything_, both from my Marine training and my experience with hunting the supernatural!"

"You're making a big mistake!' Bobby insisted. "Please, John-."

"Then it's _my_ mistake to make! They're MY kids, not yours!" John shot back.

"No one is disputing that! But I love you and your kids like family! You expect me to just sit back while you subject these boys to-," Bobby responded heatedly.

"We'll start with the drills as soon as Sam can more easily bear weight on his ankle. As many as we can fit in between school and hunts. We will practice non-stop until they can fight _anything_ in their SLEEP!" John angrily informed him. "I will not leave them unable to protect themselves again."

"John-," Bobby began again when John suddenly turned and charged back into the room.

"Boys? Bobby is leaving," John announced suddenly.

John watched as his friend's face registered a look of shock before quickly morphing into a smile.

"Yeah, I gotta go, boys," Bobby recovered quickly. "Get back to my dog and my shop."

John watched as his friend hugged his boys and then left without another word to him. John shook his head in acceptance. He hoped his friend would get over it, but if he didn't... well, that was a price he was willing to pay.

"Dean?" John asked a few minutes later after Sam walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. "You find out anything at school?"

Dean walked over and joined his father who had a moment ago sat down at the table.

"Nothing in the teacher's desk or the kids' lockers. But...and you'll like this, dad,...the three kids who had been all buddy buddy with Sam _had_ been a source of some major gossip at school," Dean said proudly.

"Why?" the dad asked.

"For not acting like themselves for the past few months. They were meaner to everyone, ignored their friends entirely, _and_ blew off most of their school assignments. Could be that they just decided that they hated school and their friends were lame or-," Dean answered.

"Or they were possessed," John completed his son's sentence with a smile, quickly realizing where his son was going with his explanation.

"Exactly," Dean agreed.

"Hmm," John said. "So they started acting strange right around the time we came here because of the demonic omens. What about the other child and the teacher?"

"Nothing on the bully, but most kids were afraid of him, so it's not like many of them really knew him. I got zippo on the teacher too," Dean explained.

"Thanks, Dean. You were a big help today. There is one more thing I want you to do. Talk to your brother. See how he's doing, okay? Also find out if he remembers anything about what happened. Anything at all. You got that?"

"Yes, sir," Dean promised as the toilet flushed and Sam exited the bathroom and looked over at them.

"I'm going out," John announced loudly as he stood up. "Do NOT leave this room for any reason. Keep the shotgun in sight and check the salt around the window sills every fifteen minutes. I'll be back soon."

"What? Let us come!" Dean begged.

"No. Sammy's had enough excitement for one day. Next time, okay, kiddo?" John asked as his eyes darted back toward Sam.

Dean's face fell in disappointment, but he nodded anyway, realizing that his dad wanted him to talk to Sam immediately. A moment later, John grabbed his keys off of the dresser and left.

"Where do you think he's going?" Sam asked as he hobbled over to the table and sat down.

"Hell if I know," Dean answered. "Hey, Sammy? You really don't remember anything about what happened in that house or are you just telling Dad that?"

"You too?" Sam asked angrily. "I'm sick of talking about this! I don't remember anything! Why would I lie?"

"Okay, okay. Calm down, jeez," Dean said. "Just let me tell me one more thing."

"What?" Sam asked with a roll of his eyes.

"You…you really scared me, Sammy," Dean said quietly, his tone serious now. "We couldn't find you for the longest time and then when we did…you were screaming so loud and then you wouldn't talk…wouldn't even _move_."

Dean shuddered at the frightening memory before continuing.

"I'm sorry…I should have been there. I _can't_ stand when bad things happen to you. I'm going to do better to keep you safe," Dean promised.

Sam sighed.

"Dean, it was _my_ fault for leaving school without at least telling you. I don't blame you-," Sam said as he began to dismiss the apology away as unnecessary. "I'm okay-."

"DON"T!" Dean yelled before he closed his eyes in an attempt to get himself back under control. "Don't. Because you don't look okay to me."

"I'm...," Sam began before he tears welled in his eyes again. "I'm just very sad is all, but I DON'T blame you for any of it."

Dean nodded and stood up. After walking over to the t.v., he turned it on.

"Oh, oh! This is a good one, Sammy!" Dean said excitedly about the _Three Stooges Show_ that was now playing.

Sam smiled through his tears. Leave it to his big brother to _always_ try to make him feel better.

* * *

_The next morning..._

John watched his boys as they slept. How he _wished_ he could sleep as easily as they did. After he had no success himself at learning anything from the locals last night or from searching the school or the math teacher's house, he had wound up at the bar. He had drank four beers before he had realized what the hell he was doing. He knew from experience that alcohol never solved anything. It wouldn't stop him from feeling helpless, angry, or sad. It would only put off the inevitable and give you a hell of a hangover that affected your ability to do your job and stay alive. John stood up. It was now or never.

"Boys?" John said loudly as he pushed at their feet that were under the blankets. "Get up. We're leaving."

"Wha?" Dean said as he lifted his head up. "What time is it?"

"Five," John answered as he began to shove his stuff into his duffle. "Get your stuff quickly."

"Why, dad?" Sam asked. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," John answered. "And_ because_ I don't know, we're leaving. It's not safe here anymore. Never was, I guess."

Dean and Sam, both sitting up now, looked at each other in confusion.

"NOW!" John yelled.

Both boys startled and rushed to get out of bed. Sam, forgetting about his sprained ankle, fell to the floor and gasped in pain.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean asked as he rushed around to his side of the bed.

Before Sam could answer, John pulled Dean around by his shirt.

"I said NOW! Or didn't you hear my order?" John demanded.

"But Sam-," Dean stuttered.

"Sam is a big boy and has to learn that he can handle a little pain. You are _both_ going to have to start handling a lot more now than you're used to," John said before turning to Sam. "Get up."

Sam shakily stood, using the bed for support, before meeting his father's gaze.

"You boys have ten minutes to get ready and out to car or there _will_ be consequences. You two got that?" John asked in a tone he knew conveyed that he meant business.

Sam and Dean, still looking like two deer in headlights, nodded quickly. Without another word, John strode to the door and out into the cold and still dark morning. When he reached his car, he looked back at the motel room. Tears began to fill his eyes. It hurt _so_ bad, the looks his boys gave him back there, but there was no going back now. Maybe Dean would be okay with it all, eat it up even. He was always a natural when it came to hunting and their kind of lifestyle. But Sam? John shook his head and quickly wiped away the tears before his boys saw. He couldn't think about that now. If either of his boy's love for him was sacrificed along the way, so be it.

**The End**

(I hope you enjoyed my story that I began writing before this past season's finale explained Lilith's interest in Sam. With this story, I hoped to offer possible explanations of the origin of why Lilith had been targeting Sam, why John acted more like a drill sergeant than a father with his boys, and why Bobby had anger toward John which had been alluded to in an early episode. **Thanks always to my readers and reviewers. You are all the best.)**


End file.
